


Wherever We Find Them

by Tabithian



Series: A Lighted Window [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after Cass joins their merry little band of misfits and outcasts, Jason notices a stray hanging around their building.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherever We Find Them

**Author's Note:**

> Follows [Small Things.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/474325)

A few months after Cass joins their merry little band of misfits and outcasts, Jason notices a stray hanging around their building. A tiny little orange tabby with white mittens on its front paws. Skinny and skittish, worse than Tim when they first got him. 

“He's adorable,” Dick says, when he sees it skulking by the the dumpsters when Jason takes the trash out and Dick comes along for moral support. (Really?)

“And not our problem,” Jason puts in, pointedly. They have enough pets as it is. Someone else can pick up the slack on this one.

“Of course,” Dick says, eying the food and water dishes half-hidden by the fence around the dumpsters Jason set out the night before. The food dish is empty, not so much as a crumb left.

“...Shut up,” Jason mutters, glancing around for signs of the kitten. 

Dick grins and darts in to peck Jason on the cheek, laughing as he heads back inside.

“Idiot,” Jason growls, and goes still when he sees the kitten crouched in the shadows at the end of the alley. If possible it looks even skinnier, ribs starting to show. One night of food isn't going to change that anytime soon, and Jesus, Jason knows where this is headed. “Goddammit.”

The kitten's ears flatten against its head as it hunches in on itself, trying to present a smaller target, Jesus.

“Here,” Dick says softly, appearing out of nowhere with the cat food.

Jason scowls at him, but Dick just raises an eyebrow. “Not our business,” Jason says again, like that actually means anything anymore.

*******

It's slow going trying to get the kitten let them get close. Jason starts sitting on the stairs to their building fiddling with the latest broken appliance (theirs or one of their neighbors') to let the kitten get used to him. Dick starts accompanying him after the second night, leaning against him and reading whatever book has caught his attention for the moment.

“Vampires aren't supposed to sparkle in the sunlight, are they?” Dick asks one night.

“If I find out you're standing in the corner watching me sleep like a fucking creeper I'll tell Alfred,” Jason answers calmly enough.

“...So that's a no, then?” Dick asks, because he never knows when to stop.

********

And then, as if to prove that the world can be a nasty bitch when she wants to be, Damian goes missing. 

“How the hell did Murder Kitten get out?” Jason asks, while they go over the doors and windows, trying to figure out how the little shit got out so the others won't be able to do the same thing.

“I don't know!” Dick sounds borderline frantic, Tim right on his heels whining anxiously. Cass keeps tripping them up as a distraction for Steph who keeps making a go for the bedroom window.

They don't sleep that night, and neither one of them are all that happy to see the sunrise the next morning.

Tim is curled around Steph, sad-eyed and miserable and Steph. Jason's never seen her like this. Cass is perched high, like she's watching over them – all of them, bright eyes missing nothing.

“This is a fucking mess,” Jason says, low and tired as he gets ready for work. Dick, hunched next to Tim and Steph ,gives him a tired smile and doesn't argue the point.

********

“What is up with you today?” Roy asks, cornering Jason in the break room after Jason almost fucks up a beast of a bike, too distracted to focus on work.

“Nothing,” Jason snaps, trying to get past him because they have work, don't they? The world doesn't stop for shit like this, a runaway kitten. 

Except Kory blocks the door and pushes him back into the dingy little room, clearly not happy. “Something is bothering you.”

Jason bites back a majorly ill-advised _no shit, Sherlock_ because Kory could break him easy as breathing if he pisses her off. “Murder Kitten got out and we can't find him,” Jason says instead. “Little bastard's breaking Dick's heart.” (Jason's _fine_ , it's not like he ever got along with Murder Kitten.)

Jason chooses to ignore Roy's snort of disbelief because fuck you, Harper.

“Go home, Jaybird,” Roy says, because the fucker has zero self-preservation instincts. “Let us know if you need help looking for Murder Kitten, okay?”

And. Goddammit. “The shop - “

“Will be fine while you look for Damian,” Kory says, smiling gently. “Go home, Jason.”

“Dick has it covered,” Jason tries one last time. Dick took a personal day to plaster the neighborhood with flyers and knock on doors looking for Murder Kitten. And, sure, the little bastard is important, but he can't just leave Roy and Kory in the lurch because Dick's stupid _kitten_ is missing.

“Don't make us call Dick,” Roy says, because along with a serious lack of self-preservation instincts he's a also a bastard.

“Fuck you, Harper,” Jason says, but there's no heat in his words, just something like gratitude. 

********

It has to be shit all over Jason's life week because the moment he leaves the shop it starts raining, fucking pouring down. Visibility is shit, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he gets to their block, mutters a heartfelt, “Thank God,” when he parks his bike in the apartment building's carport. 

He watches the rain coming down for a long moment, not all that enthusiastic about going back into it to get to their apartment even though he's already soaked through, when he hears a dog growling. 

Looking around, he sees the nasty piece of work that belongs to some asshole in the next building, scarred up from past fights. It's the meanest dog Jason's ever met, and its owner is the kind of asshole who doesn't bother with things like collars or leashes, letting it roam free and to hell with the consequences.

More than one neighborhood pet has gone missing thanks to it, part of the reason Dick's taking Damian's disappearance so badly.

“Fucking hell,” Jason says, hoping Damian wasn't unlucky enough to run afoul of it when he hears - _goddammit_ \- a low hissing sound and sees a little blotch of black pressed up against the tires of a truck. The damn mutt's blocking his way. “Goddammit, Murder Kitten!”

The dog twitches, growl going rough and feral and Jason. Jason is not going to let the fucking dog kill murder kitten, kill _Damian_. The only thing he has to hand is his helmet, and it's small fucking relief up against eighty pounds of angry dog.

“Hey, Cujo!” Because Jason's an idiot, and Damian better appreciate this.

Another vicious growl and Jason whistles, high and sharp, to get the dog's attention, and boy, does he ever as it whirls around to face him, teeth bared.

“Fucking hell,” Jason says again, gripping his helmet tight and bracing himself for whatever the dog's going to do next.

Damian yowls, small and furious and fucking stupid, and then the stray drops down from who the hell knows where, spitting and snarling. He lands on the dog's back, sharp little claws digging into the mutt's skin, and it yelps in pain as the stray fights his way to the dog's head, biting and clawing and sounding really damn pissed.

Jason stares, disbelieving as the dog shakes the stray loose and fucking _runs_.

Damian snorts, drawing Jason's attention back to him where Damian gives him a look that's all arrogance and disappointment in Jason and his everything. Like he didn't scare ten years off Jason's life just now, like he didn't break Dick's heart when he ran off.

“You little bastard,” Jason says, moving towards him, only to stop short when the stray jumps between them, puffed up and angry. There's blood on his paws and face, and he doesn't look so much like a scrawny little kitten now as a damn tiger protecting its cubs and goddamn, why him?

“Jason?” Dick comes running around the cars, skidding to a stop when he sees Jason's fine, if soaking wet and pissed at a damn _kitten_. “Tim was freaking out, and then I heard the noise. Is everything okay?”

Tim's pressed against Dick's legs, the end of his leash held tight in Dick's hand. Tim looks anxious, jittery, ears pricked forward, watching Damian and the stray closely.

“Murder Kitten's fine,” Jason says, deciding Dick doesn't need to hear about the little fracas just yet. “And, hey, look. He made a friend.”

Dick's looking at him like he's crazy (he has to be, it's the only explanation), and then, “Damian? You found him?”

“Sure,” Jason says. “We can call it that if you want.”

That gets him another confused look, but that's fine because Damian decides he's had enough of their stupidity and would like to go home now, simpletons. He walks up to the stray where he utters a quiet meow and butts his head against the stray's shoulder, like he's reassuring him, letting him know that Dick and Jason are his pets, nothing to worry about, here, friend.

“I need a fucking drink,” Jason says, tired and wet and just so fucking done with everything it's not even funny.

Dick looks at Damian and his new muscle and back to Jason, eyebrows expressing his confusion far better than words ever could. “Me too, I think?”

And. Yeah. That sounds about right. “Let's get his majesty and his little bodyguard inside and then we break out the booze, yeah?”

“Don't think you're getting out of explaining,” Dick says, serious, and of course Jason's going to tell him. If only to see the look on Dick's face because fucking really, what just happened here?

“Yeah, okay,” Jason says, watching Dick as he approaches Damian and the stray carefully.

Dick crouches, smiling softly when Damian pads toward him every inch the spoiled little prince. The stray hesitates, ears halfway back as he follows in fits and starts. He doesn't trust them yet, but Damian does, and the stray seems to be attached to Damian. (How the hell did that even happen? Damian's a little brat, a fucking menace.)

********

“So I was thinking,” Dick says later, after Jason's had a hot shower and is well into his second beer. (Dick apparently doesn't think what happened earlier was in any way strange - of course not - because why would he?) Damian and the stray are being fussed over by Tim and Steph and Cass, and Dick's pressed up against Jason on the couch watching them. “What do you think about the name Colin?”


End file.
